


This Curse Turns Into A Blessing When I'm Holding You

by samsbestgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Biting, Bottom Sam, Come Marking, Coming Untouched, Curses, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Angst, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-Canon, Protective Dean, Sibling Incest, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Spit As Lube, Tender Sex, Top Dean, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22716550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsbestgirl/pseuds/samsbestgirl
Summary: When Sam was only six months old, he had been cursed. The first person he kisses will forever be bound to him. No one can break that connection once it's formed. You can think of it as soulmates 2.0. Expect Sam doesn't think it's romantic or sweet at all. He doesn't consider himself lucky.Because one thing life on the road has taught him: there's never time to get to know someone enough to trust them and want a permanent bond with them. It just isn't.And now to top it off, his Dad wants this curse to be dealt with, so of course, John's gonna pair him off with the first hunter they encounter. Just great.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 309





	This Curse Turns Into A Blessing When I'm Holding You

**Author's Note:**

> The fact that I've started my first longer fic doesn't mean I won't find time to write something else in between chapters if I get some new and interesting ideas. So I hope you enjoy this piece of angsty fluff.

Sam has never in his seventeen years of life been kissed.

Well, of course, he'd been given a peck on the cheek or a little kiss on his forehead here and there but they didn't count, not really. Because his lips were cold, chapped, longing for the feel of another person's lips covering them with even the softest of touches. He wanted to feel the passion, the need that drove people to frantically kiss everywhere they could get a spare moment to. He's heard so many stories about how kissing someone is magical, how there are fireworks and your knees buckle because it's so good and you can't hold yourself up with your senses all overwhelmed like that and...

He wanted to experience that. But he couldn't because being Sam Winchester meant you never got to just do whatever you wanted with no consequences to worry about later.

When he was only six months old, Sam had been cursed. Dad told him that they had searched a way to break the curse for years with no luck. Sam found it poetic because since that moment you couldn't put both 'Sam' and 'luck' in the same sentence together without outright laughing about the antithesis of it. His life was one big curse after another.

So needless to say, Sam couldn't kiss anyone if he didn't want to also be bonded to them for _fucking_ ever. It was the type of connection that, once formed, no one could break it. It was indestructible and permanent. So if he ever decided to kiss someone, he had to be one hundred percent sure that he wanted to spend the rest of his _unlucky_ life with that person.

The worst thing about this whole predicament was that everywhere he looked he saw people kissing. Lips locked, attached at the hip, grinding against each other in sleazy bars and school hallways, he couldn't avoid seeing it. It was like the moment Sam walked into the room, people suddenly decided that they wanted to swap spit. It was infuriating.

He sometimes wanted to say _fuck it_ and go grab the first person he saw and plant one on them, fucking up both their lives in the process. He was just so tired of being careful. But he wasn't irrational either; being reckless because you wanted to rebel against everything was a sure way of messing it all up. And then... he couldn't see himself spending the rest of his life with just anyone.

But one thing life on the road has taught him: there's never time to get to know someone enough to trust them and want a permanent bond with them. It just isn't. So he contented himself with watching and yearning from afar, making peace with the fact that he would never get to feel what it was like to kiss someone you loved, to feel their lips sliding against yours, everything slotting in place, and he's come to be okay with it.

Except for when he saw his brother kissing some girl and he wanted to be in her place.

It was childish and dangerous to think like that. His brother should have never been an option for him to consider. It didn't matter that when he imagined kissing someone out of the blue, bonding them forever, he was thinking about his brother. That all his fantasies included him in some way. That the only person he would be truly _happy_ , not just content, to bond his soul with was Dean.

That he wanted to give his brother all his firsts.

Nonetheless, it could never happen, he wouldn't let Dean do that to himself even if he theoretically wanted it too. So for the most part, Sam pushed everything back, tried not to think about it, and moved on with his life. It wasn't worth dwelling on impossible things.

Dean was carding his hands through his hair, Sam's head in his lap, soft rock playing in the background. Their dad was driving and for once, Dean had decided to just sit with him in the back. Sam didn't know why the sudden change, not like he was complaining, but he liked to think that maybe his brother had picked up on his emotions and wanted to make sure he felt better. It was a soothing thought so Sam didn't ask him to explain, just soaked in Dean's presence next to him, holding him. It was a rare occurrence these days.

Once in a while, Sam got himself in one of these moods that brought him down and held him there until he found a way to bottle up all the sadness inside. He didn't want to worry his big brother but it was like an out of body experience. He felt the urge to wallow in his distress, in the bad things happening in his life and all around him, and just let them consume him. And he was powerless to stop himself from sinking deeper into sorrow, in the end, he just hoped that he'd make it back intact, tougher than before.

Sam lifted his eyes to Dean's face and watched the moonlight play over his features, heightening them, sheathing him in an aura of otherworldliness. Sam sucked in a breath quietly, basking in the feel of Dean's fingers in this hair, taking care of him like he always did. Dean noticed his stare and smiled down at him, flicking his nose with his other hand. Sam batted it away and scrunched up his now-itching nose. "Jerk"

"Bitch." His brother responded, fondly, taking hold of his arm and wrapping his fingers tightly around it, just letting his touch ground Sam. "Where are we going, Dad?" He asked John, his voice disturbing the eerie atmospheric calmness in the car.

John looked up at them through the rearview mirror, silently analyzing them. "You'll know when we get there." Was his cryptic response, and then he turned his gaze back to the road.

Dean sighed, standing straighter in his seat, "I just don't get why you had to drag us out of bed in the middle of the night, not even telling us where we're headed." It wasn't often Dean talked back at Dad and Sam didn't understand why he did it now.

"Dean, keep your mouth shut and get some sleep. I'm not sayin' it twice." John snapped, hitting the steering wheel with enough force to make both brothers jump in the back seat. 

Sam shivered, the last shreds of sleep leaving him at once, and Dean just gripped him tighter. He held him down when he tried to sit up, shaking his head slightly. Sam gazed in his eyes, silently communicating. He understood Dean's reluctance to push the situation. John wasn't in his right set of mind. Something was definitely bothering him and Dean thought it was wiser to just stay back and let him fester in his own destructive thoughts for the moment.

//

The sun shone brightly through the Impala's window, prompting Sam to come back to the land of the living. He groggily sat up, rubbing at his sleep-heavy eyes and sweeping his hands through his messy hair. A night of sleeping in the car left a stiffness in his back and he moaned painfully, cracking his bones to fully wake up. Noises coming from outside caught his attention and he frowned, looking around as if the people talking would manifest themselves right in front of his eyes.

Sam whipped his head around, trying to place the direction of the voices. They were angry, hushed, so he could barely make out what they were saying. But he would recognize his brother's voice anywhere. So with a little effort, he quietly opened the car's door and climbed out, shielding his eyes from the sun.

That's when he noticed where they were. The roadhouse appeared tall and imposing in front of his eyes like a house raised from its ashes and Sam gasped, startled. What were they doing here? He had a bad feeling about this.

"I don't care, Dad. It should be his choice. I - Let me talk, for God's sake." Sam heard Dean's voice again and he looked around, spotting them in between two Sedans in the parking lot, next to the Impala. They were poorly hidden from view so Sam realized with a jolt they must've been hiding from him. It was obvious they didn't want him to know whatever it was they were discussing.

So that was exactly why Sam tiptoed closer to them, staying concealed by the car's outline.

"Stop mothering him, Dean. He's seventeen. We can't keep him in a castle all the time. He has to face life. This is how he learns life's not always fair." His father breathed out.

"Mothering him? That's rich coming from you, Dad. You're the one who told me to do anything I can to protect him and guess what, this is me doing exactly that."

"I'm surprised by you, Dean. Where is this attitude coming from?" John asked, indignantly.

Dean huffed and Sam could see from his spot that he was on guard, his posture stiff and his shoulders high, making him look almost menacing. Sam's never seen Dean stand up to their father like that. "You're trying to seal my brother's fate here. I think I have a right to say my piece."

"What?" Sam called out, giving himself away. Both men instantly turned their heads to him, guilt settling over their futures. Dean's shoulders hunched and he came to stand next to his brother, reaching out to grip his wrist but Sam stepped back, pulling his hand away. A flash of hurt crossed over his brother's face at that but Sam had to stand his ground, otherwise, they'd never tell him anything. "What are you talking about?" He could hear his voice cracking, but he ignored it.

"Sammy..." Dean started but John raised a hand, silencing him.

"Why don't we go inside and I'll tell you everything?" He propositioned, calm and collected.

"Dad!" Dean snapped, contradicted. Whatever's got his brother like that couldn't be good. Sam was immediately on edge. "You can't-"

John pointed his finger at Dean, "Don't tell me what I can and can't do." And with that he left, turning his back on them and making his way inside the roadhouse.

Silence descended around them.

Sam turned to Dean. "What was that about? Don't lie to me, Dean." He asked, for once wanting his brother to take his side.

Dean didn't respond. Instead, he stepped closer, wrapping Sam up in a tight hug, his hands closing around Sam's waist. His brother held him to his chest, his face pressed into Dean's neck, just breathing him in. Sam was so caught by surprise he didn't know how to react at first, but then his arms went around his brother's shoulders, burrowing even closer to him, soaking in his affection. He missed this so much. He didn't know what brought it on, but he wasn't about to complain.

Dean sighed in his hair, his hands rubbing reassuring circles over Sam's back. After a couple of minutes, he pulled away but kept his grip on Sam's forearms, gazing in his eyes. They were standing close enough that Sam could just lean forward and seal the distance between them, capturing his brother's lips in the first kiss of Sam's life. Binding them as one forever. He wanted it so much. His pulse was thrumming with it and for a second, he thought Dean might want it to, might make that step and kiss him because the emotion Sam saw in his eyes just then must've been real, but then he stepped away, putting some distance between them and Sam's hope shattered like fragile glass.

Like it wasn't even there.

Sam sighed and looked the other way, a tear sliding down his face. "Sam -" But Sam didn't want to hear it, he couldn't. So he began running, going after their father, leaving his heart behind at Dean's feet in that dirty parking lot. What a fucking pity party...

When he entered the roadhouse, the first thing he noticed was the eerie quiet. He felt like he had stepped on a deserted island, the only sounds his erratic breathing and the clinking of glasses. Ellen was seated behind the counter, pensively cleaning the dishes and Jo was perched on a barstool, her head in her hands, looking for the world like someone's stolen her favorite toy. He didn't know her well, but then again, no one deserved to be sad.

John spotted him easily and came to him, gripping his arm with enough force to bruise so he could drag him next to Jo on one of the barstools. The sound of the door opening didn't manage to break the tension hanging heavily in the room, only fueled it more.

"Don't hurt him!" said Dean, snatching John's hand from Sam's arm. They looked at each other challengingly and Sam held his breath nervously watching this battle of will unfold in front of his eyes. Dean seemed to win because John held up his hands, backing up a step.

"John," Ellen started. "Have you told these boys why you're here?" She questioned, not stopping from what she was doing. "Or shall I?"

"No one's gonna do anything," intervened Dean, "cause we're leaving. Dad, you're not doing this to him, I'm not gonna let you."

"I don't need your permission, Dean." John sneered. "Sam -" He trained his hollow gaze on his youngest, "that curse of yours..." Sam knew from that one word it was gonna end badly. "has become a liability." Dean huffed, folding his hands over his chest. "We need to get rid of it."

"Get rid of it?" Sam inquired. They had tried that already. The only way it would go away was by - "No!" Sam climbed off the barstool, knocking it down in the process. "Y-You can't- you - no!"

"Son, calm down!"

Sam knew exactly what John had in mind. Pair him off with Jo. No freakin' way. He didn't want that. That was what he had feared from day one. That he'll be forced to bond with someone he didn't love, know or trust. It was the last thing he wanted for himself. And now his own father wanted to - "Calm down? You want to bind my soul to some unknown girl!" Sorry, Jo - it wasn't personal. But he would fight tooth and nail for his freedom.

"Listen to me! It's Jo. Not some unknown girl. Ellen and I thought -"

"So what I want doesn't matter?" He asked, not believing what he was hearing. "I went seventeen years without kissing anyone, why do this now?"

Ellen put her glass down and met Sam's gaze head-on. "Kid, you have to understand hunting is dangerous. Do you know how many demons could take advantage of your situation? How many would want to bind you to them? We must be precautious -"

Sam sniffed, the tears pouring out of his eyes in waves. He clutched at his stomach hard, fighting to not throw up. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be the ending of his story. It didn't even begin yet. "Please," he breathed out, not doing anything to disguise his distress. "If you don't care about me, then what about Jo? What does she want?" It was his last card to play.

"Jo understands and she's ready to-" John took a step closer to Sam, but he was cut short when Dean intervened, placing himself in front of his little brother.

"Don't!" He said simply. His gaze was fierce and Sam wanted to throw himself in his arms, crawl under his skin and never leave. His brother turned around and collected Sam in his strong arms, letting him cry to his chest.

"Shhh it's okay - It'll be okay, Sammy. I'm here. Trust me, baby boy. I'm not gonna let them -" He whispered in Sam's hair and Sam's tears came even faster because this amazing boy that loved him was holding him in his arms, soothing him with gentle words and comforting touches and Sam wanted to scream for the unfairness of it all. He felt like he would've fallen apart at the seams if not for Dean keeping him upright. The fall would be less painful than this. This helplessness. Having your faith decided for you by others. It was the worst feeling.

Dean shushed him softly until Sam's sobs subsided and then he pulled back, keeping his arm around Sam's waist, plastering him to his side. "You can't make him." He stated forcingly.

John laughed, actually laughed. "He's my son. He's seventeen. I think I can. I know you can't see it now, but it's for the best -"

"Hm..." Dean faked considering it and then in one practiced move pulled his gun free from the waistband of his jeans, pointing it at John's chest. "I wasn't fucking around. You can't make him. You don't get to decide his destiny, Dad. No matter who you are. Guess what, I'm his brother. And you know what I'm deciding now?" He held John's gaze, his fingers skirting over the trigger. "Run!" He ordered Sam before the gun went off, the part of the ceiling that the bullet hit now crumbling to dust around them.

"This was a warning!" Dean said and grabbed Sam by the hand, stealing him away from the disaster they made. They left behind the debris, their Dad's astonished face and Ellen and Jo's surprised ones and ran for their lives outside the roadhouse. They didn't look behind when they climbed in the Impala, peeling away from the parking lot and making their way to the nearest motel.

It was time they made their one destiny.

//

By the time they got to the motel closest to the roadhouse, Sam already felt the day has taken its toll on him. He was utterly defeated, exhausted, the pressure of the world resting on his young shoulder. Not to mention he's gotten to the point where he was contemplating agreeing that what John had wanted him to do felt like the only solution. His dad was right anyway, that curse brought him nothing but pain. Sam would've been glad to discard of it.

But not like that...

Was it selfish that he desired a real bond, born out of love, not out of necessity?

Sam sighed, lowering himself down on the bed furthest from the door and closing his eyes. He could hear Dean drop the Impala's keys on the table, could hear him walking around the room, probably keeping busy. Sam didn't want to wallow in his self-pity either. It wouldn't do him any good to feel sorry for himself. So he took a deep breath, sat up and searched for Dean with his eyes. He was leaning on his elbows against the kitchen counter, his head in his hands. Sam's heart broke seeing Dean so vulnerable. Sometimes Sam forgot that he was just a kid too, not this invincible superhero Sam's made him be.

He got up from the bed and stalked over to Dean. He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder gently, not wanting to startle him. Dean's back stiffened and then relaxed when he realized it was only Sam. He turned around and their eyes met, holding for a moment. Sam was the first to break and he lowered his gaze to the floor, shuffling on his feet. "I'm sorry." He said, matter-of-factly.

Dean's expression changed into one of incredulity. "What are you sorry for?"

"If I hadn't overreacted -"

"Whoa, hold on, Sammy!" Dean raised a hand, efficiently cutting off Sam's rambling. "Overreacted? That wasn't overreacting, Sam. That was standing up for yourself and for what you want!"

Sam sighed, confused. "Yeah and look where that got us." He gestured wildly with his hands to highlight their current predicament.

"That was not your fault. Dad was the one who couldn't see reason. We tried. He didn't get it. We had to do something. That's it." Dean put both of his hands on Sam's bony shoulders. "Sammy-"

"Dean, we stole Dad's car. We ran away. Do you think he's gonna let us off the hook so easily?" Sam was getting frustrated. Didn't Dean understand that they couldn't win?

"That was our only chance. And be sure he's gonna look for us. We'll just lay low for a while, let him know we're okay and if he drops that nonsense he's so keen to force on you, then we'll have a serious conversation with him, resolving things. But Sam, c'mon, don't blame yourself. There was nothing you could've done." His brother's voice didn't leave room for an argument.

"I could've said yes..." Sam whispered quietly.

"Sorry, what?" Dean asked, suddenly taken aback.

"I said-" Sam lifted his gaze to his brother's face again. "I could've agreed with him. Maybe - if I had just done what he asked of me..." He mumbled, pointedly looking at something over Dean's shoulder.

"You can't be serious!"

"Yes, Dean, I am. Maybe if I hadn't been so selfish you wouldn't have had to disappoint Dad by standing up for me! He's gonna punish you just because I couldn't take his decision like a man!" He barely refrained from shouting. Sam was so sick of his brother facing the consequences of his own actions. Dean deserved better.

Dean laughed, a hollowed-out sound, devoid of any humor. "You think I regret it?" He asked, his face earnest. "Do you think for one second I'd hesitate to do it again? Sam, you gotta understand something. I don't care what Dad'll do to me. The only thing that matters is that you're safe and free, just like you're supposed to be. Not bonded to someone you don't love just because Dad decided it. You should be free to choose. I'll always fight for that. Fight for you."

Sam could feel another round of tears stinging his eyes, but he fought not to let them spill. He didn't wanna be weak anymore. "Dean - don't say that... I don't deserve it! Can't you see I'm not worthy of your protection?"

"Forgive me for not believing that. You are worth everything to me. The only one I'll fight tooth and nail for."

Sam licked over his lips, his heart aching, holding back from his instincts telling him to say _to hell with everything_ and just kiss this stupid, handsome, amazing man that after everything still wanted to be by his side. "What if he was right?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if this curse is a liability? What if someday down the road some demon will decide to fuck up my life and bond with me? Huh, what then? How is that different from what Dad tried to do? How will you protect me then? How much 'till you realize you're gonna get hurt because of me and I'd hate myself forever?"

Dean's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, swallowing hard. Sam's eyes were drawn to that movement like a moth to a flame. "It won't come to that. I'll make sure of it. No demon's gotta put their hands on you."

Sam huffed, tilting his head to the side and sweeping a hand through his hair, gestures meant to distract from the uncertainty forming in his gut. He didn't know what was best anymore. "Throwing yourself on the line of fire for me again. Just consider how that makes me feel. Knowing you risk your life for me! I want you to be safe, Dean! You're my brother. I mean, what would I do without -"

"Then what do you suggest? Look me in the eyes, Sam, when I'm saying this, I'll _never_ stop protecting you. So just drop it, alright?"

"Okay then! How's this for a willing sacrifice? Why don't you bind your soul to me if you love me so much?" Sam screamed at once, the words had gathered in his throat and he couldn't hold them back anymore. He regretted them instantly. "N-no, I - Sorry, fuck. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I - Forget it, please!" He scrambled to make it right, frantic and panicked. He couldn't believe he had said that to his brother's face, how could he -

"I'll do it! My soul. It's yours. Take it!"

Sam could sware his lungs had stopped working for a second, the air not making it through his nostrils. He felt dizzy and he had to grip onto the counter for support. "W-what?" Never in his life had he thought he'd get to hear those words he'd wanted so much to come out of his brother's mouth. He blinked, not entirely processing what Dean said. Those words hung hot and heavy in the space between them, both boys dead silent.

"I meant it." Dean whispered, a blush dotting his cheeks. "Did you?" Sam couldn't wrap his mind around the genuine emotion is his brother's eyes. "I know what's going through your head. Dean and his self-sacrificial righteousness. You can forget it because that's not it. I -" He took a deep breath, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "You already own my soul. What's a little magic added into the mix? It'll be like making it official - like... marriage or something."

"You-you're serious?"

"Sammy, I could've never suggested it to you. You had to make the first move. But I've been thinking about it for a while now -" He bit down on his bottom lip, his gaze landing directly on Sam. "I'm in love with you." He declared and Sam's world burst into an assortment of vibrant colors. So this was what happiness really felt like. "And if there's even a chance you might feel the same..."

"So this isn't you giving up your happiness, your future, for me, right?" Sam had to make sure. He would be crushed if his brother came to resent him for this.

"You are my future, Sammy. I could never regret choosing you over anything else." He stepped closer to Sam and sneaked his hands around his middle, pulling him forward so that they were chest to chest, glued together.

"But you know it's forever. The bond can never be broken. It's-" Dean reached out his finger and put it over Sam's lips, effectively silencing him.

"I know." A small smile crept over his face, tugging at the corners of his lips. "What do _you_ want, Sammy?"

"What I've always wanted." Sam smirked, his eyes slipping closed, his lips ghosting over his brother's cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. "You." He whispered and dragged his lips down Dean's cheek, making him shiver. Sam brought his mouth to Dean's ear and told him huskily, "Kiss me."

The first press of Dean's lips over Sam's surprisingly didn't feel like a new experience, it felt like coming home after being gone for most of your life. Sam's eyes slipped closed of their own volition and his heart sped up, thudding painfully in his chest. He opened his mouth under his brother's and let the feeling of being kissed for the first time wash over him. The heat spread throughout his body, his arms coming up to wrap around Dean's shoulders. They clung to each other, their lips dancing in the same synchronized rhythm that described their relationship so well.

Sam whimpered in Dean's mouth and his brother's tongue slipped inside, mapping out the roof of his mouth with gentle strokes. The taste of Dean was something new, but also familiar, and he never wanted this sensation to go away. The feeling that this - this is where he belonged. Dean's lips were wet and soft under his own and Sam wanted to run his tongue over them, feel their texture, feel Dean's desire for him. So that's what he did, he untangled their tongues and bit down hard on Dean's bottom lip, tugging on it with his teeth.

His arm was burning but he ignored it in favor of kissing his brother for the first time. No matter how many times he had imagined this very moment, he didn't even come close to the actual experience. They broke off the kiss, the need for air becoming too much, and panted softly against each other's swollen lips.

Dean looked down, his gaze going over his own arm around Sam's waist. He lifted it up and stared in amazement. Sam followed his eyes and gasped. There on his brother's arm was a little _S_ , not in ink or anything remotely human, but more magically looking. Sam was certain he had a matching _D_ on his own arm. The smile on his face couldn't get bigger. They were bonded, undeniably and irreversibly bonded.

He lifted his gaze to Dean and noticed the fondness in his brother's eyes directed at him. His heart was beating fast and he knew what he wanted to happen next. He grabbed his big brother's hand and led both of them to the bed closest to the door. Sam stood in front of Dean, placing his palm over his neck where his pulse was steadily thrumming. "Make love to me?" He sheepishly asked.

Dean tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear and questioned, "Are you sure?"

Buzzing with excitement, Sam responded with no hesitation whatsoever, "Yes!". Dean gave him a small, private smile and shoving his hands under Sam's ass, he picked him up and threw him on the bed, pinning him down on his back. He crawled over Sam's body, sliding his hands beneath his shirt and caressing his milky-white skin. Dean claimed his mouth in another earth-shattering kiss then slid lower to his neck, peppering kisses over every inch of available skin.

Sam's insides were churning with pleasure, heat pooling low in his belly. Dean's mouth was doing things to him, his touch like an electric current rippling through his body and setting it on fire. He brought his hands up his big brother's back, mapping out his skin, secretly proud that he was allowed to touch, to feel his muscles tightening beneath his shirt. Sam wrapped his legs around Dean's waist, slotting their bodies together, feeling secure there under his brother's weight.

Dean nipped at the skin of his throat, leaving marks, his teeth digging into his skin. Sam threw his head back, panting softly, his cock rapidly filling trapped between their intertwined bodies. He began to rut against Dean's belly shamelessly, seeking friction, some kind of relief for his building pleasure.

"Impatient, love?" Dean asked, his tone playful, but Sam could see right through him. He was nervous too, a blush spreading over his chest to his throat, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

"You're nervous?" Sam commented, more like a statement than a question. "But you've had sex before."

"Never with someone I love." Dean affirmed and Sam shut his mouth, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. _Damn it, this boy had a way with words..._ "I just don't want to hurt you. This is new for me too. Huh, now that I think about it, in a way you're my first too." He bent down and nuzzled under Sam's chin, tickling him a little but the younger boy only tightened his arms around his brother, keeping him close.

Dean's hands wandered all over Sam's sides, not neglecting any corner. He slipped Sam's t-shirt over his head, leaving him bare-chested to his big brother's hungry gaze. He leaned down and took one of his erect nipples in his mouth, squeezing it between two of his fingers, rolling it gently and tugging at it with his teeth. Sam moaned, his dick now fully standing up to attention, demanding to be touched. He let out little _ah ah ah_ sounds, prompting Dean to work his body with even more fervor than before.

Sam sneaked down one of his hands, his cock screaming at him for some kind of release. But before he could touch himself, Dean caught his wrist with bruising force, stopping his progress. "No touching 'till I say so."

Sam mewled, frustrated but did as he was told. His brother was such a tease. He didn't actually expect him to last, right? Not this first time. But Dean sat up, discarded his shirt and pants in one fluid movement, bearing himself to Sam's astonished gaze. His brother was gorgeous. Fit, but not overly-muscled, his skin practically glowing with sweat. Sam's eyes were twinkling and he grabbed onto his brother's waist with both hands, bringing him down again to cover his body in the most intimate of ways.

The older boy chuckled lightly, trailing his lips over his brother's naked skin again, picking up where he left off. When he reached his jeans, he looked up at Sam, noticing the bulge tenting the front of his pants and reached out his hand, rubbing over his dick slowly. Sam moaned and, incouraged, Dean continued his ministrations. He dragged down the zipper with his teeth, his hand not stopping its movements. Dean pulled his pants down over his hips and slipped them off his legs completely before he lowered his warm mouth onto his boxer-clad dick.

Sam has never before felt that kind of pleasure. It was such a unique feeling, having a person reduce you to a blubbering, needy mess, to a puddle of willing limbs and loud uncontrollable noises. Dean's mouth worked over his dick uninterrupted, a dark patch of precome forming on the fabric of Sam's boxers. His brother moaned around his cock, the vibrations making Sam buck his hips forward uncontrollably. That seemed to be the last straw because his brother took his briefs off in a fast motion, Sam's cock bobbing hard and wanting in front of his face.

Wet, hot heat enveloped his dick when his brother took him down to the root. He began to suck him off, alternating by giving kitten-licks to the head, tonguing the slit, and deep suctions around the entire length. The slurped noises of his brother sucking his dick made heat gather low in Sam's belly, alerting him of the inevitable orgasm. He tangled his hands through his brother's short hair and tugged, "S-Stop. Don't want to c-come just yet."

Dean listed to his warning but not before bobbing his head up and down his length a couple more times and then denying him the orgasm that was building and building and threatening to explode. His brother's lips were shiny with spit and precome and Sam couldn't help but tug him up by the shoulders and give him another messy kiss.

"You're so hot, baby." He heard Dean say and he blushed, looking away. His brother took hold of his chin and lifted it up with a long finger. "It's so damn hot knowing I'm the first to ever touch you. That nobody else's put their hands on you. That you're so pure and you're all mine."

"So you have a thing for inexperienced virgins?" Sam teased. 

"No. I have a thing for you." He responded. Sam observed his hand disappearing between them and then he heard little squelching noises fill the room. He looked down and saw his brother jerking himself off, hand working furiously over his leaking dick, the tip shiny with precome. He flicked his wrist just so and let out a loud moan, looking into Sam's eyes. Sam reached out his hand and covered Dean's own over his cock, taking over and beginning to stroke his brother's dick. He swiped his thumb over his slit and Dean groaned his name. "Just like that, baby. You make me feel so good. You wanna make me come?"

Sam moaned, his hand jerking his brother's dick faster. Dean spat on his fingers then brought them to Sam's lips, gesturing for him to open his mouth. Sam did and sucked on Dean's fingers hard, getting them wet. Dean pulled them out after he deemed them wet enough, then lowered Sam again onto his back, fingers coming to prod at his opening. Sam moaned low in his throat, hips bucking down onto his brother's finger, wanting them to enter him, to take, to give him the most exquisite pleasure he has ever felt.

Dean rubbed his spit-slicked fingers over Sam's entrance and, distracting him with a passionate kiss, pressed inside. Sam sucked in a deep breath, breathing in and out, trying to relax around the intrusion. It stung a little, even though Dean was being as gentle as he could, giving him time to get used to the new feeling of being penetrated. The uncomfortable sensation receded and Sam nodded, slipping Dean's finger further inside of him. " _Fuck_ ," he moaned when Dean's finger hit a spot that made everything fade and only pleasure lightning up his spine.

"That would be your prostate," Dean explained while repeatedly continuing to hit that spot. Sam's noises filled the room, fucking back onto Dean's finger, taking him deeper with each thrust inside. Soon one finger became two and he became a complete mess, begging for his brother to just take him already. He sobbed in pleasure, Dean's fingers rubbing against his prostate relentlessly.

"Don't worry, Sammy. I've got you, baby brother." Dean gave him one more finger, fucking him with them until he deemed Sam ready for more. He pulled out his fingers then, spitting on his dick and coating it well before he nudged Sam's legs open. "Spread your legs for me, love."

And Sam could only obey, spreading his legs wide for his brother. He settled in between them and positioned his length at his entrance. "Ready?" Dean asked, holding his gaze.

Sam nodded, nervous but excited. Dean could feel his soft, warm body underneath him and he caressed his thighs, while he slowly began to thrust inside Sam's body. He slid easily inside, the spit slicking the way, and he groaned, straining with the effort to hold still, let Sam adjust to having Dean's cock inside him. Sam breathed deeply through his nose but the pain was fully overshadowed by the pleasure clouding his mind. His dick was leaking a steadily amount of precome and he wanted to have Dean fuck into his body, to take his innocence, to make him his.

"Fuck, so tight, beautiful."

"Dean, you can move. C'mon." Sam wrapped his legs around his brother's waist and the new angle allowed Dean to thrust inside and hit his prostate dead-on. He pulled out and slammed back in, setting a slow and steady pace to bring them the most pleasure. Their noises mingled, filling the room, the stink of sex and the slapping sound of skin on skin the only proof two human beings were there, uniting in the most primal of ways.

"So good, Dean. Fuck. Make me come, please, I need to come." He whimpered quietly, his voice hoarse from the sounds Dean was wringing out of him. Dean pushed inside of him languid and loving, drawing out their pleasure.

"Hmmm... Fuck, feels so good. Being the first to ever take you, _the only one_ , making you mine. You don't know many times I've imagined this. Taking your innocence, it's so fucking hot," he punctuated his words with a particularly deep shove against his prostate that made Sam cry out. "Let me hear you lose it for me. C'mon, come for me, baby."

And Dean's weight over him, his dick thrusting inside of him, coupled with the filthy words only served to bring Sam over the edge. "Dean!" He screamed out his brother's name, cum shooting out of his untouched dick, painting his chest in white strips of pleasure. Dean leaned down and bit into his exposed neck, his teeth piercing the skin, drawing a hiss from Sam and another load from his twitching dick. His orgasm felt never-ending and he basked in the feel of it.

A couple of thrusts later into Sam's lax, spent body, Dean pulled out quickly, his breathing labored and he started jerking his dick over Sam's chest. He dipped his thumb into his slit and he moaned loudly, staring at Sam's reverent expression. "Ahh." He aimed straight for Sam's chest, his cum splattering over his stomach, load after load of sticky fluid hitting his brother's skin, mixing with his own almost dried one.

They laid side by side, content in the afterglow, the air thick with the smell of sex and love consumed.

Sam turned on his side, getting closer to Dean and sneaking under his arm, tucking his head under his brother's chin. Dean pulled him in, a giddy smile on his face. "Knew you were a cuddler." He seemed to be at ease, carefree, satisfied and for the first time in what felt like forever, hopeful. It was a good look on him.

"What now?" Sam asked, the question strange coming out to disturb their cocoon of newly-found happiness.

Dean looked down at him, offering a quick kiss on his forehead. "Don't overthink this, Sammy. Now we live our lives, just like we did before."

"And Dad?" Sam tentatively questioned, not wanting to drive Dean away with his pandering.

His brother sighed. "I don't know. But he can't split us up. That'd be cruel even for him." He said thoughtfully. "Don't worry about it now. I'm here." His arms tightened around Sam, shielding him from the world's darkness.

The phone's vibrations on the nightstand rattled against the wood but neither of the boys heard it. They were both under, dreams pulling at their consciousness, or more like _a dream_. Soulmates, the dream-space that they shared couldn't crumble now under reality's invasion.

Their safe-space couldn't be tainted by the cruel things that awaited them in the harsh light of day where they had yet to face their greatest enemy. An unforgiving father. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!
> 
> COMMENTS ARE LITERAL LOVE!


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